Todos los capítulos de The Crescent Heir : Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Deimon slammed his fist on the table, making the silverware rattle. The meatball turned to ash in his mouth as he forced himself to swallow. The evening brought no solace—only the gnawing ache of betrayal and the weight of decisions yet to come. After his turn in the cellar with his treacherous mate, Deimon settled with his inner circle for the Blood-moon Rite, the sacred pack supper reserved for those who bore the burden of leadership. Seven chairs surrounded the ancient oak table. Seven, as tradition demanded: the Alpha, his Luna, his Beta, his Elders, and his Diviner. Tonight, the Luna's seat was empty. Six wolves sat in uneasy silence, their eyes flickering between each other as Deimon wrestled with his rage. The candles guttered in their silver holders, casting dancing shadows across the feast that none of them truly tasted. This was meant to be a celebration—the Blood-moon Rite marked the unity of pack leadership, the sacred bond between those who guided the clan. Instead, it

Deimon submerged himself in the Blood-Moon bath, an ancient family Jacuzzi reserved for cleansing before the crimson rituals. The water shimmered with crushed moonflowers and sacred oils, their scent thick and intoxicating. Steam rose in ghostly spirals, carrying with it the weight of centuries-old tradition. This wasn't merely a bath—it was a rite passed down through generations of Ashworth Alphas, each one purifying themselves before ascending to greater power.Around him, young omega maidens moved like shadows, their hands skilled in the old ways of purification. They scrubbed every inch of his muscular frame with imported oils that cost more than most wolves earned in a year, washing away not just dirt, but the spiritual residue of treacherous mates and broken bonds. The ritual demanded complete cleansing—body, mind, and soul.Their soft caresses worked methodically across his skin, and Deimon felt his mind drift into that space between consciousness and meditation. The ritual dem

The tunnel terminated in darkness and desperation.Anna stared upward at the exit latch, her chest heaving with exertion. Ten feet above her head, maybe more. The vertical shaft mocked her exhaustion, but the faint scent of open air beyond gave her hope—her first real hope in days. Soon they'll discover her absence,and give chase . She had no time to find stairs, no time to climb carefully, not if a bloodhound is on her trail . The nascent power of her wolf still flickered beneath her skin, incomplete and unreliable, but it was all she had.Anna crouched, gathering what remained of her strength, and launched herself upward with everything she had. Her body sailed through the darkness, and she kicked the steel latch with both feet, putting every ounce of desperate force behind the blow.The metal shrieked. Pain exploded through her legs like lightning striking bone. The latch gave way with a tortured groan, and she crashed through into the world above, biting back a scream as she land

---10:45 PMThe ancient clock on Deimon's chamber wall ticked toward midnight, each second echoing like a death knell. Everything was in position. Below, the entire Crescent clan marched through snow-laden paths toward Ascension Hills, their breaths forming ghostly plumes in the cold air. The procession moved in eerie silence, thousands of footsteps crunching through ice and snow. Above, the Blood-Moon claimed its throne at the center of the sky, bathing the world in crimson light that made the snow look like spilled blood. Distant howls pierced the darkness—primal calls that made the air vibrate with raw power, sending shivers down the spines of even the most seasoned warriors.This was no celebration. This was ancient ceremony, carried out in shadows and silence. No drums, no music. Just power, tradition, and transformation.Deimon exhaled as the clan women applied sacred markings to his bare chest—ash mixed with wolfsbane extract, forming symbols older than memory. The paste burn

"Your vitals are stable, and the accelerated healing is remarkable—even for our kind." The pack medic adjusted her stethoscope, making a final notation on Anna's chart. "You're cleared for discharge, madam.""Thank you, Healer." Anna's fingers absently traced the edge of the sterile white sheets, her wolf stirring restlessly beneath her skin after days of confinement.The medic gathered her supplies with practiced efficiency. Anna watched the antiseptic-scented ward empty around her, the beep of monitors fading as the door clicked shut. She was alone with her thoughts—and the thousand questions burning through her mind."I need to figure out where I am. Sitting here won't give me answers."Anna stood, rolling her shoulders to ease the stiffness. She'd been scrolling mindlessly through a tablet for the past hour, anything to quiet her racing thoughts. A flutter rippled across her belly—sharper than before, more insistent.Her breath caught. "Was that...?"She pressed her palm aga